


A Cautionary Tale

by Olliesmiles



Series: Guardians of the Heart [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Child Soldiers, Gen, Getting to Know Each Other, Guardian Angels, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, No Romance, Not at all following canon, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Street smarts, War, but they’re not angels, song fic i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:35:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29206710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Olliesmiles/pseuds/Olliesmiles
Summary: Guardians- beings that are in charge of watching over each human. They are not angels, no, never those. They watch from beyond, forbidden to interact directly with their wards.And Techno’s life is so shit that he gets stuck with two cast-out guardians in his head. How? Don’t ask him, he never wanted this.(AKA: His guardians are Chat)
Relationships: Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF)/Original Character(s)
Series: Guardians of the Heart [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2144367
Kudos: 12





	1. Rencontrez les Gardiens

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! First things first, you should know that all guardians are non-binary and I do not plan on changing that anytime soon. If that makes you uncomfortable for some reason, I’m sorry.
> 
> Anyways, I actually orphaned this work earlier this year, but i’ve been feeling like I could and should continue writing this, so I am. I've never written anything like this before so... sorry in advance if it gets confusing or there are spelling/grammatical mistakes.
> 
> I hope you enjoy and oh! This work is based off a song: “A Cautionary Tale” from the musical Mean Girls!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> World building is hard...

Two guardians silently watch as their ward aggressively cuts down everything and everyone in their way, looking ecstatic with blood covering every part of them, a wild grin plastered on their face and unruly pink hair flowing behind them. They stand together, away from the rest of the guardians at this “meeting”, refusing to acknowledge the taunts of those who pass by them. 

_“Look at them,” They scoff, looking down their noses at the pair when they walk by._

_“Fuck, look at you squirm,“ They laugh as they slash, bite and kick, pulling screams from their bodies; bodies unable to fight back for fear of further punishment. They_ _always look at the others, giggling._

_“Can’t even keep a single ward alive, huh?” they sneer._

_“You don’t belong here,” they whisper._

“They always say the same things,” One guardian says flippantly as yet another drunk guardian hollers and throws a glass of... some kind of liquid at them, both moving swiftly out of the way in tandem.

They glance up to their counterpart, their fire-ridden locks tumbling down their back brushing softly against their sun-missed skin as they flip it over their shoulder haughtily; the dark crown glistening with bright white jewels on their head not moving an inch with the action. 

“It’s terribly bothersome” they smirk, their eyes hardening and razor sharp teeth bared in anger through pink lips shown off to the world for a terrifying second.

With their crown sitting upon their head, loose thin white tunic accompanied by a brown leather corset and their dark pants folded into a pair of brown boots; they looked frighteningly regal in a way only understood by those who have faced similar failures and consequences. 

Their partner, a tall, bat-winged creature whose dark appearance and clothing choices cause even other guardians to steer clear, merely huffs in acknowledgement and focuses their attention back to the table from which they continue to stare at the battle being shown on the table in front of them. 

They wore a black-as-night reapers cloak embroidered with words written in a language long forgotten even by guardians adorning it. There was a stark bone-white crown encrusted with dark colored gems on their head and a blank black mask covering their face.

Across from them, the other guardians place bets, laughing and drinking. The two guardians aren’t the only ones with a ward (or two in some cases- but not theirs) fighting in this battle, but they do seem to be the only ones worrying for their ward. 

Of course, their ward is strong and does not need (and would not appreciate or welcome) their worry, but they are also a child; someone who should not be this experienced in battle, nor should they crave the feelings that come with it. One will worry when one is in charge of the safety and guidance of a life, especially one that constantly throws themselves headfirst into danger. 

At least, that’s what the fiery haired guardian says to themselves as they bite their lip harshly when a stray arrow nearly pierces their wards armor. They’ve not had a ward in so long... and as the urge to go down to Earth to care for their ward (and snap some sense into them for being reckless, because damn it, they’re going to give them a heart attack at this rate) becomes increasingly hard to resist, so does the physical grip their leader has on them. The feeling of being weighed down worsens every day, their mental strength weakening with it. 

They could easily break it, but the possibility of a far worse punishment than last time and the thought of their new partner stops them. To be honest, they understand why they must be watched, but that doesn’t mean that they don’t sometimes loathe the system.

They just don’t want their ward to go through even more pain than they have already, is that too much to ask?


	2. War, man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> flashback time babyyy

When Techno was small and living on the streets, he had a friend. They weren’t real, of course, but they were there and he always thanked them for it. They were his height, with fluffy brown hair and a lopsided smirk permanently on their face. He used to call them Will, a name he had heard on a butcher's tongue when he had come in to steal some of the meat they had hanging in their freezer.

He had Will when no one wanted to hang around a young kid in the wild city he grew up in. Violence was everywhere. He was born into violence. Quite literally, as the woman who gave birth to him gave birth on the battlefield while the man she was married to stood outside, warding off potential threats.

He refused to call them his _parents_ after learning what _real_ parents are supposed to be like. 

He grew up on the streets, not in a home. He grew up in extreme cold, with no one there to help chase it away. 

He didn't… blame them, per say. They had it rough from what he remembers. The war had taken everything from them, and added a new mouth to feed on top. 

He just wishes that they hadn’t hurt him the way they did. All the way up until the day they died. 

He loved the feeling of freedom he got when he walked on non-broken bones each day after their death. He loved being able to only need bandages for small scrapes he got when he fell over from running. He loved not hurting every day.

Now, Techno’s older, he thinks around twelve years of age. He’s more experienced in the ways of the world; in the ways of war. Because as far as he knows, the only language in this world is violence. Even at such a young age. 

Will’s gone now, blown away to dust once he turned eight and started fighting with real, proper, and _stolen_ weapons. He didn’t need a friend anymore- he needed to be strong. 

Strong enough to win the current war his country was in. Strong enough to survive. 

  
  


—— —— —— 

Techno was winning. Or, as much as one can be winning in the middle of a battlefield no one stopped him from getting on. He could feel the wind slice his cheeks, his hair whip around in the air as he moved, his throat burn from the magical laughter it produced after each slaughter (because that was what this was- a slaughtering). 

He honestly wasn’t sure where the rest of the people from his country were. He might have gotten rid of them a while back, but he couldn’t be sure. He was running on nothing but adrenaline, his heart pumping and blood in his ears. 

At some point, a few people stood on the sides of him, a good distance away lest he decide they weren’t helping. He felt like he recognized one of the people, but doesn’t know where he would know them from, and lets it go. 

As night falls, so do the attacks. He never turns away from the battlefield, but he does make a small fire off the sides of what he assumes to be a camp but can’t quite tell from the distance he sits away. 

He makes food, potatoes, and settles in against a tree to watch the battlefield. He doesn’t see or hear any movement, but with no one else there to get a second opinion on the idea from, he simply continues to watch in silence.

And kept watching.

For hours.

He’s incredibly bored.

However, in the near silence of the early morning, Techno swears he can hear faint bloodthirsty whispers echoing around him, vibrating in the air...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still only have a rough idea of what i want to happen in this story


	3. Looting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> techno goes and fights more people. flashback time once again :p 
> 
> WARNING: some description of blindness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah shit. here we go again.

Techno has ticks. 

Okay, they’re not  _ ticks _ per say, literal or metaphorical. They’re just… little things he does that, as far as he knows, no one else does. He rarely notices them, but they’ve been pointed out to him on multiple occasions by people who’ve thought it was a good idea to try and  _ befriend _ Techno. He’s always killed the annoying pest after they brought it up, but that doesn’t mean that just because their body went away, their words did too. 

In fact, Techno thinks about his little things frequently. He understands where some of them came from, but others? He has no idea. He also never notices the ones he doesn’t understand, so he couldn’t tell you what set it off. 

To be straight, one of them is that Techno will fight blind sometimes. Basically, when Techno fights, depending on the amount of space and the number of people and the terrain and- 

Ahem. 

Continuing on, he clicks his tongue during fights. Not like your teacher might if you’ve disappointed them, but in a series of sharp clicks as if talking in another language. The clicks are  _ not _ in fact, him talking in another language, but his way of sensing things around him. 

He understands this one. 

Though it was a long time ago, when Techno was younger, around eight years old, he went looting in a castle. He had thought the castle was unoccupied, and even with his better than average hearing due to his hybrid status, he had missed the heartbeats of a group of fellow looters already inside the building. 

He had climbed up the castle’s walls, scaling the stone blocks with surprising ease. He had reached a window and swung inside, already reaching for his sword expecting maybe a few mobs even if he didn’t hear any. Standing in the middle of the room, however, was a man. 

His face was obscured by a ridiculously heavy looking helmet, and he had stumbled back slightly at the sight of Techno launching himself through the window, sword out and ready. Techno thought the man looked stupid and clumsy, so he charged, sure of his win in a fight against the man. 

The man had, as Techno predicted, clumsily gathered himself out of his surprise and felt his belt for his sword, already backing up a little to get into a fighting stance. There was no weapon waiting on his belt however. Techno had grinned, already swiping at the man’s weirdly protected head with his iron sword, light on his feet and in his movements as he cut the man’s head off. 

“Helmets are dumb, and this is why,” He muttered to himself as he gathered anything of importance or interest off the man’s body before it disappeared. 

Bored, Techno had decided to actually glance around the room he had landed in. It was a small room with one window, the one he had climbed through, the four cold stone walls blank of anything, even mold. Techno had thought that odd, but brushed it off to continue his way through the castle. 

He made his way through the doorway to enter a long hallway, with the room he had just stepped out of being at the very end of it. He looked at the hallway, a little confused. It had seemed to stretch forever, just walls and walls of stone, no carpet or artwork normally found in castles like these. There also was only one door in the whole thing, and that was the one he had just walked out of. Then again, the hallway was so long he couldn’t see the end of it, so there might have been another room at the end of it. 

He had wanted to go look, see if he could maybe find another room- this one with loot hopefully- but hadn’t checked in the end since he had found another hallway with carpet- with intricate designs on it- and artwork upon the stone walls. It had seemed more promising than a blank hallway without any carpet and cold stone walls, so he had taken a gander down the new hallway, looking at the artwork as he passed by. 

It was just… paintings of ghasts. Techno didn’t mind ghasts, as they had left him alone the few times he had ended up in the nether, but the ones in the paintings had seemed to watch him; their crying red eyes and open mouths caught mid-screech made him slightly nervous. He had hurried out of the hallway as soon as he had spotted a door, not even waiting to listen for more looters. 

There were looters. In the middle of the room stood two, glaring at each other, mid-discussion. On the right side of the room had been one more, seemingly inspecting their nails and sighing in exasperation as they listened to the other two argue. 

_ Of course there were looters, that one man he had “fought” _ ( read: slaughtered )  _ hadn’t been good enough or confident enough to take on looting a castle by himself,  _ Techno had thought to himself, mentally slapping himself for being so naïve. 

He took out the bow and cash of arrows he had acquired from the other looter as slowly and carefully as possible in order to make very little noise as he slunk into the room, hiding behind one of the many pillars lining the walls. Gripping the bow rather harshly as he heard the shuffle of feet get closer to this hiding spot, he had decided that he would just start picking them off. It would be less stressful than hiding in wait. 

He had gotten in position, kneeled with an arrow notched and ready to fly. He had lined it up with the lone looter’s head, the very head that was staring at the ground boredly. He let it go, the only sound having been made was the small thunk of the arrow hitting their skull and a slow slide of the body slumping against the wall. All covered up by the two looters still arguing with each other in the middle of the room. 

Techno had known he had to act quickly in case either of the remaining looters saw their friend's body and freaked out. He had no luck however, as right at that moment one of the arguers had decided to ask their friend’s opinion and had turned around, only you see their now dead friend’s body slumped against the wall with an arrow in their skull. 

Immediately, the two in the middle had jumped into action, drawing out their swords and sliding their feet into position at the same time. Their eyes scoured the room, searching for the culprit. The room had gone so utterly silent, Techno felt suffocated in it. He hadn’t dared to move, knowing they had diamond swords and would cut him down in a single movement. 

After a few minutes, the looters apparently decided it was time to leave. At the sound of slowly shuffling feet, Techno had sprinted out of his hiding place and jumped the one closest to him. They had cried out, trying to shake him off their back as their partner ran towards them, sword extended to stab Techno off. As the other looter had come closer, Techno had suddenly tilted his body so that the person he was clinging onto would also turn. The extended sword of their partner ran them through, their momentum working against them. 

Techno had planned on jumping onto the other looter, the alive one, as their partner bled out on the floor completely still after hitting their head on the jagged stone of one of the pillars. However, when he moved to get off the dying person, his world had gone black to the sound of breaking glass. He had briefly wondered if something had hit the glowstone chandelier in the middle of the room and it had broken, but then he realized that it was daytime. The room had many, many windows. Even if the chandelier broke, there would still have been light. Before he could have freaked out about this revelation though, he heard a faint snickering and quick footsteps getting closer to him. He had moved off the ground, suddenly very aware of every sound around him. The sounds of metal dragging against metal had alerted him to a weapon being drawn, most likely at him. 

Breaking out of his daze, Techno had darted at the sound, hoping to knock the sword out of their hand. Several attempts and lashes into his skin layer, he had finally kicked the weapon out of their reach and they had both stopped to listen to the weapon skid away. Well, that’s what Techno had done, anyway, he has no clue what the looter did during that tense moment. 

The final looter had suddenly grabbed his hair, attempting to smash his head into a pillar on his left. Techno had ripped their hand out of his hair, pulling the offending appendage past his head in an effort to knock the other over. Or at least get them closer so that his shorter arms could reach their middle if he were to punch them. Which he had done. 

They had grappled for a while, the looter seemingly not realizing that Techno had led them towards one of the larger windows in the room. Techno faced the window, but the looter had their back to it, seemingly unaware of the danger. Techno had only known he was facing it because he could hear the sounds of nature coming from that direction the loudest, and the scent of bird shit was the strongest in that direction. 

The stronger the smell and the louder the noises, the closer they got to the window. Techno had given a final punch at the person, his fist made a cracking sound as it connected with their jaw. He felt their grip on his clothes and hair loosen, and their body fall away from his. They had gotten knocked unconscious, so Techno gave the body a gentle shove out the window. 

He had sat down, listening to his heartbeat and the birds outside, taking calming breaths in and out. 

And promptly proceeded to  _ freak the fuck out. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you liked it :)  
> idk when i’m posting the next chapter but hopefully soon yk

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be very slow, since I’ve got another work going at the moment. I hope you don’t mind :)


End file.
